Day had turned to night as Percival searched for those remaining. With some dry leaves and a sharpened tree branch, he'd fashioned himself a torch that illuminated his surroundings.
The smoke he'd seen earlier in the day was no longer visible from afar. The night was too dark. However, he simply maintained his course, steadily progressing towards the blackened air he'd seen before.
However, Percival began to notice strange occurrences in the jungle. Though the jungle floor had always been wet, it now resembled a muddy bog. It hadn't rained in the past two days, so he found it strange.
Then, he found a peculiar clearing. In the center was a large stone spire, extending far above the surrounding trees, which were covered in burn marks. Investigating further, he discovered several craters in the earth; it looked like the area had undergone several natural disasters.
'Could someone have done all this?' he thought.
After killing the man who called himself "Tanaka" Percival had thought that the rest of the contestants would fall easily by his sword. However, the metal boy and vampire had changed his opinion. Having experienced their supernatural powers first-hand, he began to fear and respect the abilities that the others might have held.
In any case, there was nothing natural about what had occurred here. He continued walking towards the smoke.
When he finally reached the source there wasn't a person in sight, though someone had clearly been present not long ago. Near the camp he smelled the scent of decay, which led him to a decomposing deer carcass, stripped of its meat. The fire was still burning. Someone had to have maintained it.
Lastly, he found a fine piece of clothing he recognized. It was black, and very reminiscent of the clothes the eastern man had been wearing, though these were several times bigger. He remembered the overweight man from the dream. A noble no doubt.
He tried calling out several times, attempting to lure the noble pig from hiding, to no avail.
They always were shrewd.
Then again, the area from before could easily have been the sight of a battle. It was possible that the fine clothing was a spoil of war. He thought of the robed man from the dream.
In the legends his parents had told him, there was a similar man called Merlin. He was a mage who practiced magic not of this world. Assuming the robed man was capable of similar feats, he'd have to be wary.
The god's message confirmed that there were three remaining in the jungle. So, Percival decided to make his way towards the tower. With his stamina, he was sure to reach the tower faster than anyone.
The god had also mentioned a time limit. Whether those remaining feared him or not made no difference, they'd be forced to reach the tower where he'd be lying in wait.
After several hours of walking, the tower came into view. It was a cylindrical structure several meters wide, which extended several hundred meters skyward. Crafted from stone bricks with mortar to fill in any gaps, it was a familiar sight for Percival.
Although all of Percival's life had not contained war, towers like this were a constant. As a kid, he'd gaped at the many towers that partitioned the city wall into neat blocks. In times of war, he'd attempted to fell those same towers.
This particular tower, however, was bare in comparison. Traveling through the jungle for days, he'd grown accustomed to traversing a sea of trees and other wild vegetation. Yet, nothing intruded on the great structure's space.
It looked to have been built in the center of a plain. The naked landscape was out of place in the vast and consuming jungle. Carved out in a ring, the barren plains extended for a radius of twenty meters, ending in a circle of trees hoping to reclaim the jungle's earth.
After circling the tower, he confirmed there to be only one entrance, a square-cut hole easily big enough for two men. He didn't dare enter. Their mission was to reach the tower; it was fairly certain that entering the structure would solidify his standing.
Due to his failed attack on the boy and woman, he would earn a measly four points. There was no changing that.
Percival had been displeased to hear the god's words.
"Those who fail this trial will enter the second with a demerit"
He had hoped that the death of a contestant was final. Such a scenario would greatly boost the effectiveness of his strategy. Unfortunately, it appeared that the man known as Tanaka would be resurrected for the second trial, as would anyone else he killed. But he still believed in his strategy's viability.
In addition to the demerit, whatever it might be, those killed would earn zero points, making a larger point deficient to recover from. He planned to kill the remaining two. Four points seem larger when three possess zero.
One more contestant occupied his thoughts, the little girl who bore the traits of an insect. He hoped she had already reached the tower. Percival struggled with the idea of killing her, though when the moment came he was sure he would.
Regardless, all he could do was wait. His plan was simple: he would remain under the stone gateway, on the cusp of completing the trial, until those remaining came to him. He would wait as long as needed, until the last second if necessary.
Those who came within range of his sword would be culled. That was all there was to it. And so, he waited. There must have been at least half a day until the allotted time was over, but he refused to sleep.
Stabbing his sword into the earth, he held it in both hands, using it as a crutch to lean on. His armor was uncomfortable and heavy, after the hours he'd spent traveling, though he didn't dare remove it. He was tired, hungry, and thirsty. Despite all these things he refused to break his diligent vigil of the tower.
After a life of misfortune and loss, Percival craved for some small victory. Perhaps it was a childish way of thinking. But after spending hundreds of years idly in the pitch black void, it was very possible he had gone insane.